Summary

After the radio tower, Tucker figured that was it for the whole “civil war” thing. Turns out, decades-long civil wars that cause the deaths of the majority of a planet’s population take a bit longer to get over than a few years yelling insults across an empty box canyon. Luckily, he and Donut have their time as diplomats to the Sangheili to fall back on. Enormous alien warriors are basically the same as teenagers, right?

Summary

Twenty minutes before roll call, Wash stops short of his cellblock, frozen by a delightful combination of shock, dread, and righteous fury. There’s music coming from his cell. Swing music. And singing. .

On a prison ship in the ass-end of nowhere, a dead man makes a nuisance of himself.

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Summary

Ten years. Ten fucking years and their MO hasn't changed. Wash wonders idly how they'd known to leave. Where they went. Why they waited so long to track down Price. If they knew he was here. If they knew he’d survived.

After Freelancer, after Epsilon, after the Meta, after Sidewinder, Agent Washington is left in the snow. On a prison ship in the ass-end of nowhere, he sees a familiar face.

Summary

The woman laughs, her eyes crinkling behind her silver cat-eye glasses. "You must be Eliot,” she says, cheerfully. “He warned me you were charming. Where is he?”

Eliot’s stomach drops as he realizes that this is a terrible fucking mistake, because this ain’t a random elderly woman showing up to collect cans or take up donations or whatever it is that elderly woman in weird fucking places like Portland do. This is Hardison’s nana, and Eliot has just opened the door to the apartment—to Hardison and Parker’s apartment—like he lives there.

Summary

“Oh my God! Oh my GOD! Simmons and Carolina! Caboose, run! We have to tell everyone right now! It’s nerd and jock role reversal! Go go go!” Tucker’s voice comes echoing towards them, and they both turn to look at each other in horror.